


Caring for Your Vampire Boyfriend

by SoloShadowling



Series: Vampire!Tinsley [1]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Blood, Blood Drinking, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kinda fluff, M/M, Vampire Tinsley, Vampires, no beta we die like warriors, pretty short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:00:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22235974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoloShadowling/pseuds/SoloShadowling
Summary: In which C.C. Tinsley is a fledgling vampire and Ricky Goldsworth takes care of his boyfriend (who doesn't exactly know he's his boyfriend).------Idk, I got this idea while I was in the shower...
Relationships: Ricky Goldsworth & C.C. Tinsley, Ricky Goldsworth/C. C. Tinsley
Series: Vampire!Tinsley [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1658254
Comments: 6
Kudos: 88





	Caring for Your Vampire Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> As a side note, I'm just using past knowledge and have done no recent research on vampires. Some of it may be wrong and there are probably typos somewhere.
> 
> And if it doesn't make sense, I'm sorry...

From the street, one would see the apartment dark and quiet, as if someone was asleep or had left for a while. But nobody was actually paying attention to this apartment, six floors up and facing the dingy streets of Los Angeles.

Except for one man.

Ricky Goldsworth was not easily worried. Death seemed like a sweet promise, danger was nothing more than a safety measure in life, and gallons of blood was just unfortunate in his line of work. But the past few days have left him anxious; pacing alleys and nearly chewing his nails, kind of anxious.

C.C. Tinsley, a renown detective in a few states, has yet to return to his office a few streets over. And that made Ricky nervous.

He had racked his brain, trying to remember if the detective had mentioned any case he would follow on foot or he had finally decided to take a well needed vacation, but Ricky drew a blank. He then thought more logically: maybe the detective was sick. Tinsley had habits of overworking himself to the point he passed out once he stood, and there were a few times Ricky was forced to knock him out less naturally. But one day and night turned to two, which turned to three, and apparently that was long enough for a man to be sick in Ricky's mind. 

So he did the logical thing: break into your ~~boyfriend~~ detective's apartment. 

Ricky easily, almost gracefully, scaled the fire escape, watching were he put his weight as to not make the metal groan in protest. He had practiced the act many times in the past, visiting the detective in the early days of their relationship, where there was more 'Get out of my apartment, Ricky!' and 'Leave me alone, Ricky; I'm trying to sleep, Ricky!' and 'Get out of the fridge, Ricky! That's my sandwich, Ricky!' Honestly, the detective didn't seem one for sharing. 

At least now, the detective left two sandwiches in the fridge. So thoughtful of him to leave him two. 

The man shimmied the window open, quiet as he could manage, and stepped through. The apartment was just as dark inside as it had looked on the outside, not that Ricky was too worried about this fact. He did, on the other hand, worry about the ransacked placement of objects around the room. Books were thrown about, something glass shattered on the kitchen floor, the lamp by the window was knocked over as well. Frankly, it looked like an animal went feral in there.

Ricky needed to find Tinsley.

"Tinsley?" He called out carefully, stepping over objects, and making his way towards the closest room, "Are you here?"

Something, akin to panicked shuffling, came from the bedroom making Ricky abandon the one door and head towards the other. His hand gripped a pocket knife he kept on him at all times; well... almost all times. With a hand on the door knob, he froze, the sound suddenly silenced. Taking a deep breath, nudged the door open slightly, trying not to let it creak too much. No further noise came from the room, prompting Ricky to push the door open further. 

"C.C.? You here?" His voice was soft, as if he was speaking to a frightened animal. His eyes searched the dark, trying to make out any figure in the pitch black.

Luckily, he got an answer.

"Ricky?" Tinsley's hoarse voice croaked, almost sounding as if he'd been crying. Ricky immediately rushed forward reaching out to where he heard the detective. Once making contact, Ricky didn't remove his hand, almost afraid that Tinsley would disappear if he did.

"Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong? Did somebody hurt you? Why haven't you been to work? Are you okay?" Ricky's tone was soft but worried, like a parent reunited with a missing child. In the dark, Tinsley shook his head.

"Ricky..." Almost a sad tone but more worried as he continues, "You shouldn't be here."

"What do you mean? Did someone hurt you?" A dark look flashes in his eyes, hidden by the pitch black of the room but resonating deep in his growling voice, "I'll kill however tried laying a finger on you, I swe-"

"No, no, not that. You shouldn't be here, I might hurt you." He sounded on the verge of tears, "Please, just go. Before that happens."

Ricky paused, confused. What exactly was wrong? "I'm not going anywhere until I know you're okay, and frankly, you're not sounding so hot."

"I.." He died off, unsure. "If I tell you what's wrong, show you, promise you won't be scared?"

There was a pause, unsure of how to continue. Ricky finally decided on an answer, nothing would keep him from his detective: "I promise."

* * *

Ricky was unsure how to respond.

Was he scared? No, he kills people for a living.

Concerned? Yeah, considering it involved the detective.

Did know what to do at this current moment in time? Absolutely fucking not.

C.C. Tinsley, renown detective, man with only a slightly bent moral compass and a fear of being drugged in any way/shape/or form, was now. a. fucking. vampire.

And Ricky Goldsworth, a serial killer, plaguing the streets of Los Angeles, evading each and every fool with a badge (not including Tinsley, that man is not a fool; well, sometimes), was not sure what to do with that information.

He had a million questions: What does it feel like? Are the fangs retractable like in those movies? Do you have the weaknesses of a vampire like in lore? Can he have garlic? Did it hurt? ~~Did being a vampire make him hotter or was it just him?~~ When did you get bit?

Instead, he asks the worst one possible:

"Do you want to eat me?"

Tinsley visibly flinched, causing Ricky to cringe on himself. _Great job at being sensitive, Rick, amazing_ , he mentally scolded himself before clearing his throat and trying again.

"I mean, when was the last time you ate? Don't you need to feed on blood or something?" Tinsley flinched again at the thought. Even Ricky had to admit, blood drinking wasn't ideal and frankly, gross. Who knows where those weirdos have been?

The detective opened his mouth, pearly fangs glinting in the dim light like one of Ricky's many knives. He gaped, trying to come up with an answer, ultimately stumbling over his words: "I haven't- I don't- No. I haven't drunken any blood. But- There's like an urge. Deep inside. It- It wants death. And blood. And it scares me... It wants you dead the longer you sit in front of me... And I don't want that..."

His voice was merely a whisper by the end; and Ricky was understanding, nodding his head in thought. Tinsley did look pale, even for a supposedly undead guy, and he noticed how his fingers twitched, like they wanted to sink into the nearest living thing. 

Tinsley needed to feed or he might die.

And Ricky, sure as the hell he believed existed even more now, was going to take care of his ~~boyfriend~~ detective.

Standing up and making his way to the door, Tinsley watched, worry with a tinge of disappointed clear in his bloodshot eyes. "Where are you going?"

Ricky stopped by the door, thinking over his statement before turning back to C.C. with a small smile and a gentle look in his dark eyes; "Don't worry; I'll be back. Just trust me. I'm gonna take care of you, okay?"

The fledgling vampire nodded, still unsure but willing to try. Ricky's smile perked ever so slightly, a look of fondness crossing only for a second, and he disappeared behind the door, leaving Tinsley alone in the dark once more.

* * *

The coppery scent hits his nose before he evens realizes what it is. His body, betraying his mind, is enticed by it, moving towards the door, mouth salivating. 

It smells delicious. 

But he knows it's blood.

And that scares him.

The door knob turns, Tinsley forcing himself away from it so he wouldn't get hit. Ricky's dark hair peeks through the crack, his back turned to the vampire.

Time seems to slow in this moment, a voice calling out to C.C, deep in subconscious: _Kill him. Feast on his body. Kill the man! Feed!_

He takes a few more steps back, not liking that train of thought. He won't hurt Ricky. He'd rather fling himself off the roof than lay a finger on the man in front of him.

Speaking of man in front of him....

Ricky shuffles further into the room, dragging a large trash bag with him. It takes Tinsley a moment to realize that's where the smell is coming from. He's frozen, thoughts racing in different directions. The serial killer watches the detective carefully.

In any other situation, he'd be beaming at the fact that he was helping his detective. But in this situation, he killed someone and he knows his detective doesn't like him killing people, especially innocents. On the brighter side, Ricky has had his eye on this perp for a while and was more or less saving him for a rainy day, but this seemed like a good occasion to cash him in.

"Before you argue, he was a bad man. So you can, I don't know, relish? In that thought?" Ricky tries, attempting to snap the detective out of his stupor. 

Tinsley continued to stare, as if he didn't hear him. Ricky killed someone for him. Like a cat bringing home a dead bird, trying to teach it's master how to hunt. Except this isn't what it is... Right? Vampire instinct is clouding his thoughts, comparing Ricky to a cat (honestly, not too bad of a comparison). That instinct seems to purr (are vampires cats or something?) at the thought of Ricky bringing home a kill just for him. And the blood still splattered on the shorter man's face just make him seem hotter now, rather than psychotic.

Holy shit, he's losing his mind.

Ricky shifts his weight. "Um, if you wanna just, you know, eat... I'll wait in the bathroom and clean up, um. Yeah."

The serial killer slowly walks away, glancing over his shoulder as if Tnsley might attack at any moment. That's silly, he wouldn't hurt him. Before Ricky shuts the door, C.C. calls out to him, "Ricky!"

Addressed man stops, staring, "Yeah?"

Tinsley swallows, glancing at the dead man in his kitchen, "Thank you, for everything."

The smile that crosses Ricky's face is genuine, sweet and soft, "No problem, detective."

With that, he shuts the bathroom door, C.C. hearing a lock click into place. That's fine. If he was in that position, he'd lock the door too. Facing the garbage bag containing the dead man, Tinsley lets the hunger that's been festering for a while take over. And he tears right into his meal.


End file.
